


Stan Gets Stuck Under a Porch

by genocideandgenesis



Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: Family Fluff, Gen, Sort of? - Freeform, Stan gets stuck under a porch, mentions of Waddles, vague claustrophobia warning I guess
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-28
Updated: 2015-07-28
Packaged: 2018-04-11 18:31:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 826
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4447130
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/genocideandgenesis/pseuds/genocideandgenesis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It was all because of that blasted pig that he was under here in the first place.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Stan Gets Stuck Under a Porch

**Author's Note:**

> Nothing super detailed, but... well, Stan gets stuck under a porch. If that kind of thing might bother you (re: claustrophobia or other similar things), maybe give this one a miss! Other than that, this is something I wrote in conjunction with howlsmoving walmart for our A-Z challenge thing. Originally the prompt was "C is for Crevice," but, well, a porch is close enough.

Stan groaned. He could feel the dust in his lungs and tried to cough it out, but it was too late: his lungs were already doomed. Drawing in a wheezy breath, he bellowed, “KIDS! Help your Grunkle Stan! I, uh—” He broke off, hacking dryly. “I’m dying, kids! C’mere!”

No answer.

It wasn’t his fault that he’d gotten stuck under the porch—he’d just been trying to follow that dumb pig, because… well, okay, okay, because it had run off with one of Mabel’s puppets from that blasted puppet show explosion fiasco, and he couldn’t just watch the kid’s hard work get eaten.

“Serves me right,” he groused. “It’s dark under here—” He’d have to have Soos see about that later. Rig up some lights or something. He started to swear under his breath, then broke off just in case Dipper or Mabel was nearby.

Still no answer.

The pig wasn’t anywhere in sight, either. Blasted thing was probably enjoying a good sock snack.

“Curse you, pig!” he muttered under his breath, because Mabel loved that thing, but it wasn’t showing her the same courtesy.

Stan flopped forward so that his head was lying against the dirty, dry ground. He sighed and immediately regretted it as his breath encouraged more dust to enter his lungs.

“Agh!” He coughed and spat. “Kids! Soos! Wendy—no, you’re probably not here, ah.”

He closed his eyes. Maybe if he tried lying really, really flat, he’d be able to sneak back out. The only reason he was under here in the first place was that he had dove under the porch of the Shack, and how he was stuck from the waist up under the porch. Come to think of it, he could feel splinters poking through the back of his suit, nestling in the skin there. He gritted his teeth.

More struggling did nothing. Stan drew in a breath to let loose a string of swear words that would startle creepy crawlies from the farthest stretches of the woods, but there was more of that doggone dust, and he coughed, and then his head hit the porch, and his eyes were watering and it was a mess. Embarrassing, too. He hadn’t been stuck under this porch, well… ever. Last time he’d been stuck under a porch, it had been ’84, and he’d been trying to run from whoever’d been chief of Gravity Falls Police at the time, and, well, they’d pulled him out, but they’d put handcuffs on first.

That was an accident. That was also the first time Stanford Pines officially got arrested. It occurred to him that he should tell him about that, in case he ever showed his face in this dimension again.

Stan gave shoving himself out of this hole one last shot, but it was no use: he was wedged in here like a corn dog in a kid’s mouth. Hopefully nothing down here had teeth.

 

* * *

When Soos approached the Mystery Shack, Mabel and Dipper poking each other behind him, there was something… different about it.

“Hey, dudes,” he said, “correct me if I’m wrong, but does the porch have legs?”

“Hey, it’s Grunkle Stan!” Mabel exclaimed, running to where the legs were sticking out from underneath the porch. “Oh no, he’s stuck! Grunkle Stan! We’re coming in for you! Dipper, get my grappling hook!”

“Mabel, I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Dipper started, but it was too late; she was already by Stan’s side, tugging on one of his feet. The shoe flew off, and Mabel went sprawling.

“Mabel down! Mabel down!” Soos chanted, joining the fray. “We’re gonna get you outta there, Mr. Pines! Just you wait!” He grabbed Stan’s remaining shoe and pulled.

“Soos!” howled Stan. “That leg and I have been through a lot together! Leave it attached!”

“Sorry, Mr. Pines!”

“Grunkle Stan, are you okay?” Dipper asked, hesitantly approaching the porch. “Is… is something holding you down there?” His voice was creeping upward by the second, and he started hyperventilating.

“Grab his other leg, Soos!” Mabel shouted, and the two of them heaved Stan out from under the shack porch, all three of them yelling, Dipper joining in for good measure.

There was a creaking sound, and then Mabel and Soos sprawled to the ground as the porch released Stan’s torso.

Dipper stopped screaming first. He coughed. “Uh, Grunkle Stan, are you okay?"

Stan, whose eyes were watering suspiciously, wiped at his nose, then swiped his glasses off his face, rubbing at his eyes.

“You okay, Mr. Pines?”

“You looked more stuck than the time I got stuck in the closet at Callie’s Crafts that time,” Mabel said.

“You locked yourself in that closet, Mabel!”

She flapped her hand and blew a raspberry at him. “Details, Dipper. Details.”

Stan coughed. “Th-thanks, kids, Soos,” he said.

His eyes still looked a little wet. Soos peered at him. “Are those—”

“Allergies,” grunted Stan, turning away to wipe his eyes again.


End file.
